


The Notebooks

by Samari1



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Clint Barton, Insecurity, M/M, Matt Fraction-inspired Clint Barton, Memory Loss, Memory Suppressing Machine | The Chair (Marvel), Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POV Bucky Barnes (mostly), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, They are oblivious, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, and that is okay because both are healing, very slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 16,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samari1/pseuds/Samari1
Summary: James doesn't remember much about himself, but writing things down sure does help.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: BBB Special Events





	1. Bucharest

**Author's Note:**

> These will be shorter chapters, filling the BBB flash prompts. I hope you enjoy! They will be posted as I finish them. (So, I hope quickly!)

Summary: Bucky looking over his notebooks and writing in the newest one. (Brief mention of suicide attempts) BBB prompt: Bucharest 

\--**--

The Bucharest neighborhood he was currently hiding in wasn’t exactly quiet, but not obnoxiously loud either. It was good for anonymity which was why he’d chosen it. The stack of notebooks next to his backpack were the only things he currently owned that meant anything. Though, James wasn’t sure if the memories contained in them were true or just delusions. Fucks sake, he only  _ thought _ his name was James. Not even a surname or anything to go with that. How messed up was he? 

Grabbing the bottom notebook - the first one he’d started - he allowed it to fall open to the page he looked at most often.  _ I remember the mission. I remember failing. I remember blue eyes and a mess of blond hair. I remember a smile that reminded me (stupidly) of sunshine. He was my mission and I failed to kill him. I do not know why. Or who it was. I do not remember a face or even where the mission took place. Why can’t I remember? _

Slamming it closed, James grabbed the newest notebook and a pen. If his hand shook, he wasn’t going to think about why. Too much was still a mystery. It was too dangerous to think about tall blonds with sunshine smiles. James didn’t know much, but he knew he was a danger. 

_ I know I did horrible things. I didn’t want to do them. But, I did. Does that make me a monster? I think so. It is safer for everyone if I stay hidden. I have tried  _ \- James paused, his whole body shaking now, unable to finish the thought. He’d tried everything to stop the pain and nothing had worked. After the last failed attempt, he’d started writing in the notebooks, but not once had he admitted in writing just how far he’d gone.  _ Maybe I should attempt to atone for my many sins? How do I do that?  _ _ They _ _ used me as a weapon. Is that all I am now?  _

He threw the pen at the wall and pushed away from the rickety table. A walk. Yes, that was what he needed. Clear his head. Try to dig himself out of this fucking pit of despair and self-loathing. How could he begin to atone if he couldn’t function? Yes, a walk would clear his head enough to start planning.

He hoped.


	2. Plums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is trying to do nice things for his elderly neighbors. Atonement of a sort. BBB prompt: plums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be adding a few chapters since I went a bit writing happy today. Hope you enjoy!

The newest notebook was smaller than the rest. It was easier to carry in his hoodie pocket. The whole thing was probably really idiotic, but James forced himself to think positively about it. If Mrs. Matei could be cheerful after all she’d lived through (and technically she was almost as old as he was), then damn it all, James could give it a try. Mr. Popa was a bit of a curmudgeon, but James liked that about him. The old man liked to sing James’ praises for listening to his old war stories not knowing that James had been there too. Maybe not in the same battles or locations, but the same war. 

So, for his elderly neighbors, he ran errands that they shouldn’t have had to do at their ages. It amused him in an abstract way. He was the elder of the three of them, but looked no older than he had in 1943. 

He pulled out the small notebook and glanced at the list for today: _Newspaper, plums, cabbage for samale,_ _cârnați for one of Mrs. Matei’s amazing soups, and_ _țară pâine that Mr. Popa was craving._ James was fairly certain he would remember the list, but writing things down was working for him so far. It made him feel almost accomplished when he could check things off a list. 

Mentally kicking himself, James made his way through the market. He was trying, for fucks sake. Every positive step should be celebrated. He was doing nice things because he could, because his mind was his own (he hoped) and he was going to be a nice person if it fucking killed him! Struggling not to scowl, because that shit got him unwanted attention, James tried for a casual smile as he stepped up to look over the fruits and vegetables for sale. 


	3. Bucky in Bucharest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is feeling paranoid as he went out for the day. Feels like he’s being watched. BBB prompt: Photo of Bucky in Bucharest.

James had been here for months. This wasn’t the first time he’d been excessively paranoid. But, he rationalized, was it paranoia when people really were out to get you? It was good to have situational awareness, but outright paranoia wouldn’t help him heal. He knew that. 

Grabbing his current notebook, James took the time to write. It helped. It truly did. 

_ Paranoia is not ridiculous in this case. BUT paranoia cannot rule. I have to get out and do things. Function in the real world. Staying hidden forever is stupid and will drive me the rest of the way insane if I try it. I need my not a routine yet a routine. I am  _ _ not _ _ that far gone yet. Mrs. Matei and Mr. Popa are counting on me. I can’t let them down.  _

With that in mind, he checked his pocket for the small grocery list notebook and tucked the other notebook away. He’d go and do the damn shopping and not be a paranoid jackass about it. The being watched feeling didn’t leave though. Damn it. 

James took a different route home after seeing the damn headlines. What the actual fuck was going on? He’d been keeping his head down and he really wasn’t hurting anyone. That wasn’t him anymore. Staying here was no longer an option. 

As he approached the apartment building, he realized just how stupid ignoring that feeling of being watched had been. 

Well, it had been nice living here while it had lasted. He needed to escape before that became ‘nice living while it lasted’. 


	4. Wakanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint doesn’t do well with being housed with other Avengers hiding out and is given the hut next to Bucky’s. Clint POV. BBB prompt: Wakanda

It wasn’t that Clint didn’t like Sam and Steve. It was just that he’d grown used to not having anyone close. The guards on The Raft hadn’t dared get too close. Well, not after the first broken fingers when that one asshole had thought being in a cell meant Clint wasn’t a threat anyway. He’d have broken more than a couple of fingers, but the second guard had seemed a decent sort and hauled his pal away quickly.

His aversion to touch (and people in general) was why Shuri was escorting him out to a remote area. The recently unthawed and de-programmed Bucky Barnes was going to be his only close neighbor. Clint figured this was a good solution, surely Barnes wasn’t any more interested in getting close to people than he was currently. 

He glanced down at the notebook that had been left with a note stating:  _ In case you want to write shit down.  _

Barnes, it seemed, was a blunt man of few words. Clint could work with that. It was the fact that Barnes was drop dead fucking gorgeous that may end up being a problem. Clint knew he had impulse control issues and dangling an attractive man with killer thighs (and wasn’t he just being punny today) in front of him and Clint usually jumped right in. Maybe the notebook was a good idea? He didn’t do well with  _ feelings _ or at least not with discussing them with others, so maybe Barnes had the right idea. He’d consider it.

Speaking of, Clint spotted his hot new neighbor outside the open hut door. No time like the present to introduce himself. Right? Right. He could do this and not end up looking like a total moron. Uh huh. He was going to ignore the very Nat-like voice in his head that told him he was stepping into something he probably should be more cautious about. Pfft, the Nat-like voice clearly had no recollection that he was Clint Barton and had not ever done a cautious thing in his entire life. 

He wasn’t about to start now.


	5. Goats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goat yoga. Unintentionally. BBB prompt: goats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the day. Hope you enjoyed.

Really, Clint just wanted to do yoga in peace and the goats wouldn’t leave him alone! He’s not a monster though. In fact, he’s a sucker for a cute animal. He can admit it. It wasn’t like he intentionally got himself into weird situations. They just … happened. 

That was what Clint had claimed anyway. James chuckled as he jotted down the day's events in his newest notebook as he lounged in the shade and idly watched his goats climb all over the blond. This notebook was purple because (or so he tried to convince himself) it was his chronicle of all the crazy shit Clint Barton got up to. Unintentional goat yoga was just the most recent … mishap? No, not mishap. Chaos didn’t seem correct either. Hilarity seemed closer, but still not right.

He glanced up to see the smallest goat perched on Barton’s back as the man tried to continue on with his yoga routine. He hesitated to write  _ adorable _ though it really and truly was just that. Really, he shouldn’t be thinking those sorts of thoughts. It was stupid to even entertain such thoughts when he was just now finally finding his footing and feeling free for the first time in far too long. 

_ Today’s events now include (according to Barton)  _ _ unintentional _ _ goat yoga. I stand by my assertion that shit like this only happens when Barton is around. No one else could possibly fall into so many odd events. How, one might ask, does goat yoga happen unintentionally? If I ever figure it out, I will amend this entry. For now, or at least until lunch, I‘m going to enjoy the day and watching the damn goats use Barton like a climbing apparatus. Maybe this time Barton will find a way to  _ _ not _ _ injure himself. I’m doubtful, but ever hopeful at the same time.  _

James set his notebook aside and went for the small bag that held his first aid kit. 


	6. Azzano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James dreams of Azzano. BBB flash prompt: Azzano

James bolted upright, his breath caught in his throat. Damn it! It had been months since he’d dreamed of Azzano and being captured by HYDRA. Fuck! Just fuck! He grabbed one of the smaller pieces of fabric he usually folded up to hide his arm along with his notebook and pen. Thanks to whatever he’d been experimented on with (it seemed strange to call it a super serum), his night vision was good enough that he’d not need to take a lantern or anything else with him. 

He paused, his head tipping as he took in the sight of Barton curled up - sound asleep by the looks of him - out in what passed for a yard out in the back of beyond Wakanda. He got it, he really did, the need to be outside and not surrounded by walls. That was why he skirted the other man, keeping as quiet as possible and took up his usual spot under the tree. 

Opening his newest ‘memory’ notebook, he took a deep breath and just wrote, not second guessing himself. 

_ I tried. We tried. There were too many of them and their tech was insane. We all fought. But, when it came down to the others or me … well, I took a page out of Stevie’s book and let them take me. Do I regret it? Yes. And no. Sounds as insane as the shit they did to me. But, (as Shuri says) it is what it is. Not sure any of them would have survived and Stevie damn sure wouldn’t have fucked off to come and rescue anyone else. Worth it, really.  _

A muffled scream startled him, the pen dragging across the page. James looked up, hating that he wasn’t the only one chased by nightmares tonight. After nearly breaking Steve’s jaw when his best friend tried to wake him, James knew that approaching Barton wasn’t a good idea. So, feeling fucking helpless, he stood and shifted back into the shadows. No sense in making the blond feel embarrassed when he woke. No sense at all. Besides, a walk would do him good. That much he’d learned. 


	7. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint POV. He starts to wonder if Barnes' idea of writing things down is a good one.   
> BBB flash prompt: Memories

He’d forgotten his aids. In his defense, he’d been half down the panic spiral before waking and his only semi-coherent thought had been getting outside where he could breathe without hyperventilating. Carefully shifted upright. He ignored the goats watching him - for once giving him his space - and gathered his blankets up as he got to his feet. 

Shuffling inside, Clint caught sight of the notebook Barnes had left for him and that he’d been ignoring. Writing really wasn’t his thing. He tended to spell half the words wrong and his handwriting was shitty. He  _ could  _ actually read despite the stupid comments over the years questioning it. He was just slow at it and his short attention span didn’t help matters either. 

Tossing the blankets on the bed, Clint sighed heavily. There was nothing saying that he had to write anything deep or that could be used against him. He made coffee, drank the entire pot, and got his aids before finally giving in and grabbing the notebook and a pencil. 

_ This is stupid. Not like what happened isn’t all over the internet now. Nat would probably smack me for leaving evidence and then give me that look that says she’s proud of me after.  _

_ I have a list - had a list anyway - of the people I killed or am responsible for killing in New York. It’s all in my head too. I can’t forget it. They aren’t like the ones I took out for work. Or pay in the early days - no sense lying here. _

_ I also can’t forget what was done to any of us. How was any of that right? It wasn’t and life fucking sucks. I get it. If I can’t bitch - at least a little bit - in a notebook no one else will ever see, then where can I bitch? If I can’t daily bitch about being left for dead by my own brother, I should get a pass on this shit. _

He shoved away from the desk and paced a bit before stomping back over and adding:  _ Fuck! Barnes was right. This writing shit down does help. Not telling him that though.  _

He closed the notebook and hid it as well as he could. Just because he was a former assassin/spy/agent/Avenger didn’t mean he needed to get sloppy now. 


	8. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James realizes just how helpful his new neighbor is.   
> BBB flash prompt: Flashback

_ I had a flashback today. Not as bad as it could have been. That’s thanks to Barton - to  _ _ Clint _ _ \- and I’m man enough to admit it. I was warned that removing the triggers would probably cause memories at odd times. “The human brain is capable of remarkable things” or so Shuri tells me almost weekly.  _

_ He talked me through it. I was coherent enough that he was able to lead me back from whatever headspace I was in. Makes me wonder just what the fuck the man has seen and lived through to be  _ _ this _ _ good at dealing with anxiety and what I’m told is Post Traumatic Stress. Wondering and asking are two different things though.  _

James looked up from his notebook from his perch on the lone chair in Clint’s hut. He nearly smiled at the off key humming. The blond had been returning from target practice in the little range the archer and Natasha had set up a week or so back when James froze, memories crashing down like bricks from a collapsing wall. Even though he’d recoiled, literally, at being called Bucky, the blond hadn’t paused in his low soothing monologue. In fact, he’d somehow become “Jamie” because he’d been in no shape to object. 

Now though, now he knew that he wouldn't be objecting to it. Clint was making them scrambled eggs. The man had claimed he was hungry and “Jamie” wasn’t about to “hurt his feelings by leaving, right?” 

No, he thought wryly, he wouldn’t be hurting the too adorable for James’ own good blond’s feelings. He took the coffee from the pensive blond, working up what he hoped was somewhat of a smile of thanks. Clint smiled a bright, sunshine smile that didn’t reach his eyes and James knew he was fucking sunk. He  _ knew  _ that smile. He wasn’t about to tell Clint that though. How did one say “Remember that time you nearly died? That was me. I shot you. Didn’t kill you like I was supposed to. Why? Oh, well … you were too pretty to kill.” James knew that would go over about as well as the Hindenburg had. 


	9. Found Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family is what you make it. Or what you get adopted into.   
> BBB flash prompt: found family

“Show me.”

James looked out from his hut, having heard people arrive a bit ago and since no one hollered for him, he’d puttered around his hut. After his lovely episode two weeks ago, he and Clint had spent more time together. He still wasn’t sure how or even if he should find a way to apologize for nearly killing the blond a decade ago, but he was working on it. He grinned at the sight of the tiny redhead, hands on her hips and head tipped back to pout at Clint. 

“You have your hex magic, Little Witch, why do you need actual weapons?”

James scoffed and stepped outside cautiously. He’d not picked up a weapon since arriving here and wasn’t even sure he ever wanted to pick one up again. But, that didn’t mean he wasn’t regaining a bit of himself. He’d been a bit of a shit back in the day and this was the perfect time to regain some of that. “At least show her how to defend herself.”

Clint scowled at him, looking all put upon. “Only if you help, Jamie.”

Damn. He should have seen that coming.  _ Note to self: Clint Barton is just as much a shit as Steve was. _ He rolled his eyes, but joined them. “I’m not dressed for sparring. You two are though.”

Wanda Maximoff was a tiny, fierce girl. Not a child, not after all she’d been though, but so painfully young the same. James had noticed that Clint basically adopted her and she seemed to flourish under his care and attention. Not sure he wanted to impose on that, James shrugged when she cautiously grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the empty area Clint usually warmed up and did his yoga and other acrobatics. “You can tell Clint how he is doing everything wrong.”

He laughed, a genuine deep down to his bones laugh. “That’d only get me shot or stabbed in my sleep, Wanda.”

She giggled. “Behave, both of you. Don’t make me call Natasha to referee.”

He and Clint shared a playfully panicked look at her threat. With a world weary sigh and all the drama of a teenager, Clint slipped off to his hut to grab sparring gear. James knew that was what the other man was doing because Clint Barton had a heart as big as the planet and a soft spot for Wanda a mile wide. So, he smiled down at her. “Why bring me into this?”

She gave him a watered down version of Natasha’s ‘oh you idiot man’ look. “You have been adopted now, James. You have people.”

Later that night, his notebook entry was not written in English. Not that the code could not be cracked by someone determined enough, but it was easier to admit shit this way.  _ I feel rather like a big brother again. My brain is still - as Clint puts it - ‘Swiss cheese’, but I feel a part of something now. Clint, Wanda, and yes even Natasha … they don’t have expectations of who I was and think I still should be. They just take me as I am now and run with it. It seems like Clint and I both have a weakness for badass redheads and a need to watch over them. Even here I’m not admitting the nature of my weakness for fuck off tall disaster blonds with sunshine smiles. Not yet anyway.  _


	10. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is James' turn to help Clint out after a nightmare.  
> BBB flash prompt: Photo prompt - Bucky in Wakanda

\--**--

Huddled under the blanket, Clint felt like a total idiot. But, he wasn’t in any shape to flee. Not yet anyway. Damn it all. So, he pulled out his acting skills and forced himself back under control. His brow shot up when a notebook was dropped in his lap followed by a pen. 

“No sense in fronting. Seems like I know your tells now. Even random words might help ya,” Jamie drawled, his voice pure Brooklyn these days. “It’s empty, so you can take it with you.”

No one - other than Nat - knew his tells. She was the only one that had ever bothered. And  _ that  _ was not the train of thought he needed to be having right now. He tightened his hold on the blanket, looking anywhere but the man currently in the kitchen and apparently making pancakes. “So … pancakes?”

The distinctly unimpressed look he was given made Clint squirm a bit. But he hoped that he could hide that reaction. So, he went for wide eyed innocence. “What? I’m a growing boy and pancakes sound amazing. I’m just confused as to why you’re bothering.”

Jamie glared. It was a good murder glare and Clint gave it a 10/10. But, he’d been on the receiving end of Nat’s murder glares often enough that he could ignore it. Mostly. “ _ Clint.” _

Blithely, he ignored the tone too. “So, did I tell you about my sister-in-law?”

That got him a wry smile. Good. He liked seeing the other man smile. It was a secret goal he’d set months ago when they’d actually started working towards friendship rather than neighbors who ignored one another. “Go on then.”

Clint launched into the tale about his fake wife but really sister-in-law, shoving aside his stupid panic attack and focusing on seeing how many times he could get Jamie to smile and laugh. 

  
By the time Nat and Wanda showed up for sparring practice his new notebook had a chart - in code because he hadn’t slept through Spy 101. If it was a chart logging how many times he’d made Jamie smile and laugh then that was his business. Somewhere along the line  _ feelings  _ had happened, but Clint - for once in his fucked up life - was trying to ignore them. The last thing Jamie needed was to be dealing with him being a moron. So, this would have to do.


	11. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aww, nightmares, no.   
> BBB flash prompt: Blue

\--**--

James stumbled out of his hut and knelt next to the screaming blond. He should have been prepared for this after Steve and Wanda showed up mid-afternoon to explain that Wanda and Vision were leaving Wakanda. That they wanted to try luring out a few remaining HYDRA loyalists. Clint had, of fuckin’ course, objected mightily. Wanda’s soft reassurances that they had trained her well and she wouldn’t hesitate to use her magic and how Vision would protect her all fell on - pun not fuckin’ intended - deaf ears. 

He’d kept his own council and waited until their guests had left. Clint had stormed off and all but crawled home hours later, soaked to the skin with sweat and those blue, blue eyes haunted. James took care  _ with  _ instead of care  _ of  _ in the way that both of them had silently agreed upon over the long months they’d been out here. Neither of them were big on admitting they needed help. So, they worked around each other’s triggers and phobias and made it work. He wasn’t sure what was between them only that they were helping one another heal slowly. 

“No. No. Stop! No!” 

He ran a hand lightly down Clint’s arm. That was a trick Natasha had whispered to him a month or so ago when she’d shown up to announce she was off to do spy shit and how Clint was to be in one piece upon her return. He knew talk was useless since Clint wasn’t wearing his aids, but touch worked just fine. He’d been waiting for the nightmares and he was almost thankful that Clint was still in his own bed.  _ That _ had taken months. It was rare these days to find Clint curled up outside. It was a good thing, in his opinion. 

“No! Don’t make me!”

Sighing, he kept soothing and when Clint slumped against him, slipped under the blankets so the taller man could wrap around him. It was a comfort both needed, but that was on the Do Not Discuss list. 

He simply held on, waiting for those electric blue eyes to open and the words that Clint would deny ever speaking to tumble out, the rough, weary tone familiar after so long. “I can’t. Everything is blue. The wrong blue. I hurt people, Jamie. So many people. I hurt  _ Nat.” _

There was enough moonlight filtering in that James knew Clint could read his lips well enough. He chose his words carefully. Clint wouldn’t likely remember this, but when you cared about someone, you always did your best to take care with them. Even when they did not feel the same feelings for you as you did them. “The Sky is blue. The stream is blue. Your eyes are the most gorgeous blue I’ve ever seen. There is  _ good  _ blue in the world.”

There was a huff and a sleepy, “Nah your eyes win,” before he had a 6’3, 200+ pound, and softly snoring blanket. 

James huffed out a light laugh, careful to not jostle Clint. Was it any wonder that his notebooks waxed philosophical about the benefits of ‘weighted blankets’ despite the fact that the actual one he’d been given was in the trunk in his hut and had never been touched. He felt himself drifting off for a night of nightmare free sleep. After all, he did have the world’s best weighted blanket to keep the bad memories at bay. 


	12. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri stops by for a visit!  
> BBB flash prompt: Black

_ It is going to be one of those days. _

If only he’d not been so accurate in his damn morning notebook prediction. But, his mood had been as black as the sky when he woke. As black as the coffee he was currently sipping. It was damn good coffee, but that was only because Clint had made it. James wasn’t sure when their relationship had shifted so fundamentally, just that it had. He no longer bothered to sleep in his own place and Clint simply made room for his stuff here. According to the calendar, they’d been here for over a year and living basically together for four months. Not that they fucked. Neither of them were taking that step. 

Shuri studied both of them with her usual no nonsense attitude. “Either you come in or I haul all your shit out here.”

Clint snickered, hastily downing his coffee before she could turn her ire on him. 

Her brow shot up. “Decide, gentlemen. I was left in charge of you both. I am not explaining to Natasha or Wanda how I failed that job. I don’t fail at anything that I set my mind to.”

“Aww, babysitter, no,” Clint whined. 

James just rolled his eyes. “I don’t  _ want  _ a new arm.”

The holo screen popped up in front of his face and he was reluctantly impressed. Of fuckin’ course it was black. It was fitting with the day's theme after all. Fucks sake. He blinked as the hologram shifted to a combat outfit that was in no way something he’d wear. 

“Ohhh.” Clint shifted closer, resting his chin on James’ shoulder. 

Shuri smirked. “Hawkeye is a wanted fugitive, because the WSC are morons. You like? Natasha may have listed off all your skills to me before she left. Sharp and pointy is your skill set so a sword and throwing knives seemed a good alternative.”

Clint made a contented, happy sort of sound but didn’t move from where he was all but sprawled over James’ back. Not that he minded. They might not be well adjusted enough to discuss shit, but James would never say no to Clint sprawling all over him. He wasn’t a total moron. 

Since Clint was content to study the hologram, James sighed and gave in. They liked to take turns giving in to Shuri’s demands. Made them both feel less like total saps. “Tomorrow?”

She looked smug. “Noon. My lab.”

When she was gone, Clint sighed. “Should’ve said no.”

James laughed at the mere idea of such a thing happening, reaching out for the pot so he could top off both of their coffees. “Drink up. I’ll make us pancakes and then you can try to kick my ass.”

The finger poking in his ribs was worth it for the accompanying sunshine smile that almost, nearly made it to Clint’s eyes. 


	13. Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight musings from James.  
> BBB flash prompt: Gold

Notebook propped up on his knee, James was careful not to jostle the sleeping blond. Shuri was a menace, but he had known seventy plus years ago that he had a soft spot for menaces. In fact, he thought with a wry smile and glance down at the man currently using his chest as a pillow, he had a soft spot for one menace in particular. 

_ My new arm matches Clint’s new ‘alternate to Hawkeye’ kit. Shuri thinks she is amusing. Clint bets that no one will make the connection. I say Natasha will in under five minutes. I drew the line at my new combat gear being all black. Too many bad memories there. She promised to come up with alternate ideas. I’m getting better at picking up a gun and not immediately flashing back to the atrocities HYDRA forced me to commit. Clint - though he won’t admit it - is doing better too. I think he needs a break from his bow. The sword was a good choice and the man is as proficient with it as he is the bow. I do not want to know if he was serious about sword swallowing. He’s a menace and I wouldn’t put it past him to have been just trying to get a reaction out of me with innuendo. Not that I didn’t immediately think about his mouth wrapped around my dick. But, really, no one in their right mind with working eyes would do any different.  _

He looked up, the moonlight hitting the gold highlights of Clint’s new combat gear which had been tossed over the lone chair. There had been initial pouting and grumbling about “why gold and not purple”, but it had mostly been for show and everyone knew that. Time and space did wonders, or so Sam had lectured them before he too had gone off to try and help fix the bullshit that kept them all hiding here. Not that James disliked Wakanda. In fact, he’d happily stay here for years. Well, so long as Clint stayed too. 

It was probably co-dependent and wrong, but he was self-aware enough to know that they were helping one another heal. It worked for them, bad idea or not. It wasn’t as if they were attached at the hip or anything. They did shit alone. Sometimes. He knew Clint was writing more in his own notebooks and James really, truly hoped it wasn’t just a front. Clint was not above writing:  _ pizza, archery, dogs, and coffee  _ in every language he knew over and over just to make it look like he was doing something with the notebook. 

No matter how close they were, their notebooks were off limits to each other and that was fine. Shuri liked to visit and leave ever more creatively decorated notebooks. His current one was - he was sensing a theme with her - black and gold with a stylized panther on the cover and a map of the world on the back. It also hadn’t escaped his attention that there was a dotted line from Wakanda back to NYC either. Yeah, yeah, he got what she wasn’t outright saying. Someday. Maybe. When the world righted itself and they weren’t international fugitives.

_ I am not pointing out how the new kit brings out the gold in Clint’s eyes either. I’m not  _ _ that _ _ far gone. Yet.  _

He laid the notebook and pen aside and focused on shifting into a more comfortable position. When Clint grumbled and moaned, but settled his face in the crook of James’ neck, not caring one bit that it was his damaged side, he finally, finally slipped off to sleep. Even sound the fuck asleep, Clint managed to prove what an amazingly accepting person he was. The missing arm was just what it was and life went on. He only wished he was as good at thinking that as Clint was. 


	14. comic!Bucky the sidekick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Shuri have a bit of fun with an old comic Bucky photo. Clint POV  
> BBB flash prompt: Photo prompt Comic!Bucky the Sidekick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life has fully exploded so I am attempting to get as many chapters up today as I can! I do hope you enjoy!

\--**--

Clint burst out laughing at the look of amused horror on Jamie’s face. When he’d mentioned the comics to Shuri, Clint hadn’t meant for her to find them and use them as inspiration for Jamie’s new combat kit. Really, he hadn’t. Uh huh. If he was mildly disappointed that the cute little shorts didn’t make an appearance, well he wasn’t stupid enough to tell Jamie that. The man was a shit and would be paying him back for this as it was. He didn’t need additional ammunition. Or the knowledge that as a baby gay, Clint had the world’s biggest crush on Bucky. Sure, Cap had been awesome … but he had a type and big, blond beefcakes were clearly not it. 

Shuri looked pleased with herself. “It’s blue and brown, since my thoughts on matching outfits were shot down. You two are just mean. Ruin my fun.”

Jamie looked resigned. “No stupid mask.”

Shuri pouted, holding up a rather tasteful (when compared to the one in the enormous picture from the comics being projected against the wall) black eye mask. “I called it the Domino Mask. It has all sorts of cool functions.”

Sat on one of the tables, Clint swung his legs, barely keeping himself from laughing all over again. Poor Jamie. “What sort of functions?”

Jamie ignored the question, reluctantly taking the outfit and heading off to change into it. Clint knew that his - well whatever they were to one another - didn’t truly want to fight again. It was just that they were both realists enough to know that wasn’t even remotely possible at this point. Maybe someday. But not today or any day in the near future. Damn it. He wanted to wrap Jamie up like a damn burrito in a blanket and keep the world at bay. Really he did. He liked living in the middle of nowhere in Wakanda, no matter how much he missed pizza delivery. It was safe here. Quiet. Peaceful. 

He was doing better about actually writing shit down in the notebooks. He really was. In fact, he had a feeling he would be tucking the picture Shuri had slipped him - comic Bucky in the horribly cheesy costume - inside his current notebook. If half of what he wrote was him trying to not let all these feelings he was developing spill all over Jamie, well at least he was writing something. Right? 

It took all of his acting skills not to either drool or throw himself at Jamie's feet when the man, blushing furiously, returned in the new combat kit. Really, this whole keeping his hands to himself thing was stupid hard to accomplish. Surely there was some sort of prize he was winning for managing it? 


	15. Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys train together, James has a one track mind, and feelings oh how they hit James like a train.   
> BBB flash prompt: Train

_ It is fuckin’ criminal, I swear it is! How am I to actually train with Clint when he strips off his shirt? He’s built like a damn god! It’s not fuckin’ fair. Not at all. I hate cold showers, but they are basically my best friends these days. Fucks sake. How is this my life? It’s difficult enough to best him on a good day and almost impossible when the menace strips off his shirt. _

He looked up from the relative safety of his spot in the shade. Relative because the fuckin’ amazing blond was out of reach. Not that it helped matters any. Damn it. Clint had brought his new sword back from their most recent trip to Shuri’s lab and now did daily training sessions with it. Not that he fuckin’ needed the practice.

Every once in a while, James swore there was a playful smile shot his way, but surely he was imagining it. Right? There was no way Clint was attempting to tempt him to touch. They didn’t discuss shit like that. It was an unwritten rule. One  _ Clint  _ had made early on. Or was this Clint’s way of signaling that the rule was no longer needed? 

Focusing back on his notebook, James nearly yelped when he suddenly had a lapful of blond menace. “Come on, train with me! It’s no fun by myself.”

James blinked. Okay. So maybe he wasn’t far off on being teased. This was all new to him, this idea that two men could flirt and not be tossed in jail or beaten half to death (if one was lucky) for it. Clint seemed to understand his dilemma, plucking the pen out of his hand and tossing it with the notebook on the small table that was under the tree to make it easier for him to write.  _ “Jamie.” _

Amused, he wrapped his arm around the blond and managed to stand, Clint clinging to him like some sort of demented monkey. His grin was probably very, very telling, but at this point he truly gave zero fucks. “You are a menace.”

“You  _ like  _ menaces.”

“Yeah, I do. Let’s train, you menace. Maybe me kicking your ass will up the fun factor for you.”

Clint tipped his head back and laughed, that sunshine grin finally reaching his eyes. “How ya gonna manage that with me already at the advantage?”

His brows shot up and James knew his grin was just this side of cocky. Three steps and two sly moves later and he had Clint pinned to the ground. “Advantage, ya say? Hmm. I think not.”

Laughing like a lunatic, Clint did one of those twisting pretzel-like moves that should not have been possible for any human to manage and James found himself pinned. “This one.”

Resisting - barely - the urge to kiss the man, James concentrated on tangling his leg with Clint’s and using his weight advantage - slight as it was - to flip them both again. “Hmm?”

He saw the mischief, but didn’t move quickly enough to evade Clint’s next move. As their lips met, all thoughts of training flew right out of his head. All the walls he’d built over the last year came slamming down and the sheer amount of feelings flowing between them hit him like a damn train. He felt Clint’s hand tangling in his hair and if he moaned, well, duh. Fuck. They should have given in months ago. 


	16. Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of a chat about James' Winter Soldier days. Clint POV.  
> BBB flash prompt: Photo prompt (surveillance/ WS in grainy photo)

Snuggled on Jamie and under the blankets, Clint absolutely refused to move until necessary. Okay, he’d moved his arm and retrieved his aids but otherwise nope. And really, when he was draped over his guy - seemed the best way to define it for now - and they were in bed and the world was quiet, why would any sane person move? The sun was just rising, which was what had managed to wake him up. Damn it, they’d been too busy kissing one another to pull the curtains closed the night before. 

Jamie made a strangled, pain-filled noise. Clint snuggled closer, the long months of helping one another giving him a basic order of events. But, before he could do anything, Jamie started talking, even as gentle fingers slipped over the scar on his lower back. It was an older one, from his early S.H.I.E.L.D. days. A mission not quite botched, but also one that hadn’t gone according to plan.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

The hand stilled, but only for a moment. Clint waited, not minding in the least the way Jamie was almost petting him. “This.”

The penny dropped. “That was you?”

Guilt positively dropped from his words. “I was supposed to kill you. But, then you smiled and I don’t know. I glitched. Botched the shot. I couldn’t kill a man who smiled like that. Sunshine and all things good in the world.”

Clint blinked, trying to process all that was packed in those few words. Then he smiled and brushed a light kiss on Jamie’s neck. It was in the past and there was no sense crying over spilled milk or whatever. It hadn’t been his guy’s choice. “You got me paid time off.”

An incredulous laugh was his reward. “What?”

“This is going in my notebook,” he murmured, not quite knowing why he was admitting it. “I survived the second best marksman in the world ‘cause my smile is amazing.”

“Best. You survived the  _ best  _ marksman in the world.”

Playfully scowling, Clint leaned back just enough to look Jamie in the face. “I have the circus posters to prove that  _ I  _ hold that title. Though, admittedly your Army sniper records come pretty close.”

“I want to see those posters.”

Clint grinned. “Sure, sure. I suppose it’s only fair. I do have the photo of you in your sidekick costume after all.”

Jamie groaned, rolling his eyes, though the smile he had going made Clint all sorts of happy. “Destroy it.”

Clint kissed him lightly. “Not a chance. I’m having that sucker framed. That comic was spank material for baby gays the world over. Aren’t you proud knowing that?”

Jamie looked alarmed and then burst out laughing. “Spank material? Really? You went there?”

Unrepentant and so damn happy he didn’t care about looking like a fool, Clint nodded. “Oh yeah, frequently. Very frequently.”

Jamie rolled them, pinning him to the bed. “Really now? I think you should tell me all about it.”

Swamped with feelings he didn’t know how to deal with or even express, Clint cupped the back of Jamie’s neck and pulled him closer. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, have always been amazingly attractive. No matter what outfit you were wearing. Or not wearing, I could very happily go for not wearing. Just sayin’.”

Laughing, Jamie kissed him. 


	17. Aww!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a ... well does it count as a talk when you write stuff down instead? Clint POV  
> BBB flash prompt: fluff

_ Today was an A+ day. I can’t say that often. I managed to keep my guy laughing and happy all damn day. Somehow the village kids decided that we were in need of company. This time the goat yoga was deliberate, though their parents might just kick my ass for it. The point is that Jamie laughed. The kids being happy was secondary. Maybe that makes me a sap, but fuck it.  _

_ For the first time in my life, I feel like I deserve this. Deserve to be happy. That maybe, though fuck if I want to jinx it, I can  _ _ keep _ _ this one happy thing. This nice thing. I never have before. Happy was always out of reach. Or was yanked away.  _

_ After Loki, I thought maybe the shitty luck I’d been cursed with was a good thing. Because I didn’t deserve happy. Like the universe had known all along that I didn’t deserve it so it made sure I never had it.  _

_ I want to. I really, really want to deserve this happiness. I’m no good with words or fancy speeches or big declarations. I always fuck everything up, no matter how much I try not to.  _

_ Don’t give up on me? _

“Read that. Please.” Biting the corner of his mouth, Clint slid the notebook across the counter and all but ran out. He ran, he always ran. But, damn it. He’d written that shit down with the intent of sharing it so it had to count for something, right?

He was perched in his favorite spot in what he thought of Jamie’s tree - the one Jamie sat under most days - when Jamie found him a bit later. Those gorgeous eyes were full of understanding as Jamie passed up a notebook. A sticky note marking page. “Read that. I’ll be down by the stream.”

Clint flipped open the notebook and his heart nearly melted as he slowly read what his guy had written.

_ Fucks sake, Clint! If anyone deserves happiness it’s fuckin’ you! Don’t you dare think I’d ever walk away, no matter how much you think you fuck something up. Your fuckin’ smile broke programming that is older than you are. And now I feel like a damn cradle robber. Fucks sake.  _

_ Not the point. The point is that you - we  _ _ both _ _ \- have been fucked over far too often for ten lifetimes let alone the ones we’ve actually had. Don’t you think it’s past time for us to have a bit of happy? You  _ _ get _ _ me and I  _ _ get _ _ you. Maybe we're both fucked in the head enough to not manage to say this shit aloud, but we can damn well write it. Hell, bet Shuri would set us up with a tattoo artist or create some program to tattoo it on us.  _

_ I get it, truly I do. A lifetime of just about every damn person walking away will make anyone believe it was their fault. That there is something wrong with them.  _ _ IT IS NOT! _ _ Just because you’ve been surrounded by fuckin’ morons who don’t see your worth doesn’t mean that  _ _ I’m _ _ like them. Natasha isn’t either. She’d burn the world for you. I would too, if that wasn’t fuckin’ clear by now.  _

_ Now get your ass out of the damn tree and come swim with me.  _

Clint jumped down, returning the notebook to their home before doing as instructed. He knew he’d need more than one kick in the ass before he believed it, but somehow he thought Jamie was up to the task.


	18. A new arm... yay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets his upgraded Wakandan arm. Clint likes it, a lot.  
> BBB flash prompt: metal arm

“It’s sexy.”

James snickered, looking up from where T’Challa was attaching the new black and gold arm. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The arm or the fight that was barreling their way. He knew that Clint was doing what he did best, easing those around him into things in a way that wasn’t jarring. So he shot his guy a smile. “So you say.”

T’Challa laughed. “You two want a lift?”

Clint, clad in his new black and gold kit, slid off the counter and grabbed his sword and his bow. “Sure, get us to the ass kicking faster. I’d like to keep out of sight. I know we don’t know exactly what we’re facing, but at least in this outfit they aren’t expecting an archer. Might give us a bit of an edge.”

“Thank you both for this. I know you would have preferred to stay here and have peace.”

James shrugged. “My mantra for today was ‘we can get through anything’. I should have known it was a self fulfilling prophecy.”

Clint yanked him in for a kiss. “Mine was ‘Fuck it, we deserve happiness’ so maybe we’ll survive this?”

T’Challa looked pensive. “My mother wishes to speak to you both, as does one of our elders. We should go.”

Oh, that wasn't ominous or anything. Wonderful. He tucked his hand in Clint’s, squeezing lightly and in what he hoped was a reassuring way. His guy was just now accepting that they deserved happiness and a major battle with some sort of alien megalomaniac was not exactly conducive to keeping the blond believing in their now daily habit of reassurances. 

“I haven’t had a chance to play with your sexy new arm. Therefore we can’t die today.”

T’Challa was laughing as the three of them boarded the quinjet. The fact that an all terrain vehicle would have gotten them to the meeting in under thirty minutes while the quinjet would only take about three just hit home how serious a situation they were walking into.

“You’ll have plenty of time to play, sweetheart.”

Clint’s sunshine grin didn’t make it to his eyes, but James appreciated the effort. “I’m holding you to that, Jamie. I have  _ ideas. _ ”


	19. surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa's mom is awesome. Oh and there is a bit of a surprise about the nature of James' and Clint's relationship.  
> BBB flash prompt: soulmates

Clint wished he had his notebook. It was a habit now to write down all the important things. This was very fucking important. Very Fucking Important. Later, after this battle, he’d be writing this shit down for sure. “What?”

“That is actually a thing?” Jamie sputtered. “Not that I object, but what?!”

Queen Ramonda and the Elder both looked utterly amused by them. T’Challa’s mom almost smirked. “Your souls have bonded. Before this battle ahead, our god says you should know this.”

“It’s not a real thing? I mean, not that I object to Jamie or anything, but how is it a thing?”

The Elder patted his cheek and then Jamie’s. “Just know that it is. Come now, there is a ceremony. We have just enough time before Captain Rogers and the others arrive.”

Jamie grabbed for his hand and Clint didn’t front about holding on for dear life. They were led down to some sort of underground garden thing. He was so beyond understanding any of this that he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. The only constant was Jamie’s hand in his and that was enough for Clint. 

They were shuffled into a sand pit full of that black sand Wakanda seemed to have everywhere and he was given a drink. Eh, at least it was purple. Everything sorta went sideways at that point. Then dark.

—**—

James didn’t remember much, but he came to laid out next to Clint in the sand pit feeling stronger and more stable mentally than he had in … well ever, really. 

Clint rolled, bits of black sand clinging to his hair, but grinning widely. “Okay, That was awesome.”

He chuckled when Clint promptly blushed, looking guilty. “Oops? I probably should be more reverent or whatever.”

Queen Ramonda just laughed, sounding delighted. “Congratulations, both of you. Up you go, you’ll be needed to fight soon enough. After all this is done, we will have a celebration dinner for you.”

Clint did that twisty - no way should anyone with actual bones be able to move that way - thing he was so good at and was on his feet before James could even think about moving. He was being hauled up by his new arm seconds later. His brows rose. Clint was no weakling, but it usually took a bit more for his guy to haul him around. Just what the fuck was going on?

Eyes practically fucking sparkling, Clint grinned a mischievous grin. “Ohh, I like. I like a lot.”

The Elder smiled softly. “The serum you were given extended your life, your healing, your … well … everything. Bastet felt it wrong that your soul bound mate was not given such gifts. It would be wrong for you to find your perfect match, so rare to do these days, and then face the possibility of losing that bond again.”

He was gaping, James just knew he was. 

“Wait. I’m  _ enhanced _ now?” Clint looked even more stunned than James felt, looking around frantically as if someone was going to jump out and declare this all a prank. 

“Yes.”

James was thrilled because as much as he adored Clint, the man was forever injured or healing or healing then injured again. So, this was more than okay with him. How Clint took it was what was important.

That sunshine grin made an appearance and Clint practically vibrated with joy. “This is going to be fun!”


	20. Aww, flashback, no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has a bit of a flashback to WW2.  
> BBB flash prompt: Wartime Europe

James truly wished he was with Clint back at their damn hut and that everything was bright and peaceful. Instead, he was waiting for Steve and the others to arrive and desperately wishing Clint was here instead of already in place with a group of Wakandan warriors. He really could use the calm and understanding presence the blond always seemed to have. 

He knew - fundamentally - that he was staring out over Wakanda not Italy. He knew it was almost unbearably hot rather than icy cold. He  _ knew _ but his mind was back there, back in the 40s and war. All his mind was kicking up was half formed memories of screams and gunfire and bombs and falling - 

“Sergeant Barnes.” 

That wasn’t helping. Shit. He had to snap out of it. Had to. He wouldn't be any use to anyone like this and he needed to be.

“White Wolf!”

James blinked, staring at Shuri for a few minutes before finally fully pulling out of the memories. “You howled?”

She snickered, then got her serious face on. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. You doing okay?”

He shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had any choice. There was no way he could sit this out when Clint was out there fighting. Steve would be here soon too and if he couldn’t watch  _ his _ blond’s six, he could watch Steve’s.

She sighed, but plastered on a welcoming smile. He tried to do the same. All he had to do was not have his PTSD triggered and end up thinking he was back in Azzano. Easy, right? After everything else he’d been through, James wasn’t about to give up now. Not when he had a damn soulmate and a shot at happiness. 

James gripped the gun and squared his shoulders. This was different damn it. He was going to walk out of  _ this _ war alive. 


	21. Clint is done with this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint gets impatient. This is not a bad thing ... this time. Clint POV (Infinity War & Endgame fix-it.)  
> BBB flash prompt: AU

Clint was too old for this shit. Really, he was. Okay, so as of a few hours ago he’d pretty much been given a 25 year old’s body and super soldier recovery time or something like that. It didn’t mean that this shitshow wasn’t the very fucking definition of  _ okay this looks bad _ . Giant rolling things and aliens of all shapes and sizes were not exactly what his PTSD needed right now. But, he was kicking ass and taking names. He and a few of the Dora Milaje had been trying to thin the numbers and jump in where needed, but keep moving at the same time. 

He thought they might be winning, but really was winning even a thing after all this? He jumped over two more fallen warriors, racing towards the loudest screams. Thankful for almost a year of training with Jamie, he climbed the nearest tree and swapped his sword for his bow. Shuri had been a fucking gem creating all sorts of amazing arrowheads for him. He could just see some giant purple (and didn’t that very thing piss him right off) alien dude who looked like he was monologuing. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Hell, even Steve thought Clint had returned to the States and ‘retirement’ months ago - not long after Steve went off to do whatever he’d been doing actually. In his defense, he was still officially ‘retired’ and ‘home’. If no one clarified his location, well, he was okay with that. 

Focusing back on the matter at hand, Clint watched as Thor arrived with an impressive light show. He was reluctantly impressed. Hopefully, this would help turn the tide and get this shit over with quickly. He nocked one of his explosive arrows and let it fly while the purple alien and Thor snarked at one another. 

Thor’s handy new ax thing missed, but his arrow exploded right on schedule and the purple thing exploded, the gauntlet falling to the ground before the alien dude could complete the snap he'd been monologuing about. 

The enemy aliens seemed stunned. Some ran, others snapped - damn it it was not the time to be punny - out of their shock and resumed fighting. He nocked three arrows at a time, taking out as many as he could. 

The remaining aliens were thinned out fairly quickly after that and once he ran out of arrows, Clint swapped weapons again and jumped to the ground. He was swinging his sword when he felt something, he wasn’t sure what, hit him in the lower back. As his legs gave out, he saw Jamie running towards him, mowing down the last few aliens. 


	22. James is done with this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James does not want to deal with anyone's bullshit, he just wants Clint fully healed.  
> BBB flash prompt: Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the deluge of chapters, but I wanted to try and get as many posted as possible while I could.  
> Thank you to everyone reading along! I hope you are enjoying!

James didn’t give a single fuck what Steve was muttering about or even at this point Shuri and T’Challa. Ramonda had taken control of the situation the moment he and Clint had arrived in the med area. She shooed off everyone but him and Natasha. Wanda was nowhere to be found and he was mildly concerned, but it was going to have to wait until after Clint was healed. 

“You  _ said  _ \- ”

Ramonda cut him off, motioning for the doctor to go ahead with the needles and tubes and what the fuck ever. He blanched when his flesh and bone arm was requested, but only for a moment. If it would help Clint, they could damn well cut that one off too as far as he was concerned. 

“This will help him heal even faster,” Ramonda murmured, her hand a gentle but steadying presence on his shoulder. “He’ll wake up and be bouncing off the walls within an hour or two.”

“It's fucked up,” he grumbled. “Beyond fucked up! You said he wouldn’t die!”

“He won’t,” Natasha murmured from her position near the head of the bed. “He didn’t have my permission to do so.”

He would have laughed, but he was too worried about the unconscious blond. “How will my blood help?”

It was the doctor this time that responded. “We are kick starting his own healing. No one is going to allow Thanos’ executioner to die today, White Wolf.”

“Think of another way to say that,” he nearly snarled. “He’d not take that one well.”

Ramonda chuckled. “Savior of the World is the one I’d go with. It’s true.”

James didn’t give a shit. He just wanted Clint to wake up. Nothing else mattered.

\--**--

Still groggy, though also weirdly energized, Clint stared at Steve. “We’re still fugitives? I just saved the motherfucking world!”

“T’Challa is talking to the UN right now.” Steve looked tired as he shrugged. “Thor is kicking himself that he didn’t aim for Thanos’ head and everyone else is around here somewhere. In case you were worried.”

Jamie was doing the murder glare thing. “We don’t give a fuck, Stevie.”

Clint squeezed his hand. “Hey, Jamie, I’m fine. They all said so. Only reason I’m still laid out like this is because my fancy new suit got cut off. Which I am annoyed about. Hmf. Only wore it once. Shuri promised to bring me clothes.”

Jamie shook his head looking equally amused and outraged. “You will stay until they say you can go, Clinton Francis.”

Clint scowled at Nat. “Mean! You told him!”

“I did not.”

Unsure if she was fucking with him or not, Clint pouted. “I’m starving. Can I at least get food?”

Steve shook his head. “I saw your wounds, Clint. You aren’t getting up anytime soon.”

“Don’t underestimate Wakandan tech,” Nat interjected wryly. “Clint’s fully healed. We need to be focused on just why our names weren’t cleared after all of this.”

Clint shot Jamie a mischievous look. “Nope. I need recovery time. I have something to write down and someone made me a promise. The rest can wait.”

Jamie scowled right back, tossing a notebook into his lap. “Get to writing, sunshine. Ya ain’t movin’ yet.”

He didn’t bother arguing. 


	23. Irritation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is ... irritated.   
> BBB flash bingo prompt: FUBAR

_ I am fuckin’ livid. It took Ramonda basically adopting Clint and me to stop the WSC and UN from attempting to re-arrest him for allegedly violating his agreement and arrest me for shit I did while being mind controlled. Good luck with that bullshit. Queen Ramonda does  _ _ not _ _ play where her children are concerned and the whole world is about to learn that fuckin’ lesson. _

_ Shuri looked smug and immediately deemed us “older brothers that will, of course, spoil their baby sister rotten” and T’Challa just looked over all this bullshit. Not that I blame him.  _

_ Wanda disappeared, but thanks to this asshattery, we can’t go looking for her. Clint is climbing … well I’d say the walls … but really it is basically  _ _ everything _ _ at this point. At least I know that he can't truly be harmed for more than about twenty minutes maximum at this point. Otherwise, I’d have found a way to chain him to the bed or something.  _

_ Natasha laughed in my face when I, very kindly I might add, asked her to help me calm Clint down. She muttered something about “Budapest taught me that lesson” and fucked off to talk to Okoyo. I do  _ _ not _ _ want to know what those two are plotting. Unless they really do plan on taking over the world.  _ _ That _ _ I want to know about. Better to be friendly with your not so benevolent leaders than be on their bad side.  _

_ We are both doing surprisingly well - all things considered. In fact, we’re heading out to the market in a few minutes. Or whenever Clint stops treating the goats and other animals like actual pets. Okay, I’m lying, its fuckin’ adorable and I’m going to watch him act like a four year old at a petting zoo. _

_ I can’t focus on just how beyond FUBAR everything else is right now. I don’t have it in me.  _

_ So I will focus on what I can control. We are both alive, free, and happy. Those are the important things. For my own good - and Clint’s - focusing on what is in my - our - control is the only way we can stay on the path to any sort of recovery after all we’ve been through. If that makes me selfish, so fuckin’ be it.  _


	24. Umm... well yeah... that happened.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint explains how he ended up owning an entire apartment building.  
> BBB flash Bingo prompt: Brooklyn

If James goggled a bit, well, who would blame him? “You did what now?”

Clint blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Won the whole building in a card game with the Russian Mafia?”

He laughed. What else could he do? “Well, I suppose that settles the whole ‘where do we go when this WSC and UN mess is cleaned up’, yeah?”

Clint slid a worn looking notebook across the counter. “I may have written it all down months ago. I’m going to go shoot at things and you can read all about it.”

Ignoring Clint’s quick escape, James eyed the notebook. They truly were getting better about taking like adults, but sometimes this was better. Clearly, there was something in this particular notebook that Clint either felt ridiculous about or was embarrassed by. With a sigh, he opened it and braced himself for either option. They would deal with it. They always did.

_ I was in such a bad place after the mindfucking. S.H.I.E.L.D. fucked around in my head for a few months and then put me on med leave. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I looked for a place of my own. I wasn’t in a good place mentally. Fuck it. I’m not sure if I’ve been in a good place mentally in my life.  _

_ So, I found this crappy apartment. I can call it that, it’s mine, but no one else can. It was what I needed after all the over the top bullshit Tony supplied in the Tower. The landlord was a bastard and kept raising the rent on people who could barely make ends meet in the first place. So, I fought back. Got my ass handed to me sometimes but we all know I can take a beating and live to tell the tale.  _

_ Long story short, I won the card game. I will neither confirm or deny if any card shark type tricks are in my own questionable skill set. Just know that I fucking won and they had to go fuck themselves.  _

_ I pay one of the tenants to run it and set up an account so shit actually gets fixed when I can’t be there. It works. Maybe I will see it again someday. Who knows, might stay here in Wakanda forever. Not the worst place I’ve lived. Not going into that though. There isn’t enough alcohol in the world for me to spill all that bullshit. It’s there though, in my head. I usually do that whole thing where you shut the bad shit away behind mental doors and not think about it. _

_ I don’t know if I have any more mental doors to shove the bad shit behind these days. But, if I stop moving - stop doing what I hope is the right thing - I’m not sure what would be left. Maybe, just maybe I might be afraid that when being an Avenger (because fuck them all I was fucking Hawkeye before I was an Agent or Avenger and no one is taking that from me) stops, that there isn’t enough left for me to be anyone or anything.  _

James closed the notebook gently and went looking for his guy. He had a lot of convincing to do. There was no way he was going to let Clint keep thinking the worst about himself. Even if it took a fuckin’ century to do it. They now had all the time they could ever want or need. 


	25. Aww, trauma, no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James actually talks about things.  
> BBB Flash Bingo prompt: Trauma

“The things they did … that they forced me to do.” Jamie sighed, curling closer into his chest and Clint simply held on and listened. They were doing a bit better at talking with spoken words and not just through the notebooks. “Did ya know it took almost twenty years for them to create that fuckin’ Chair? I was … not ready to comply. So they found a way to  _ make _ me.”

He made a soothing sort of noise, but kept his mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time for his opinions and thoughts. Now was the time for Jamie to purge a bit more. The flashbacks had been more frequent - for the both of them - in the days since the battle with Thanos and his minions. Only Natasha and Shuri dared bother them as of late. They were both fine with that, even if rumor had it that Steve was confused and pouting in equal measure. 

“I can’t remember my Ma or dancing or even that Expo Stevie goes on about. So, why can I remember all the horrible shit?”

“Same reason I can remember everything I was forced to do? I can barely spell my own name most days, but my brain oh so helpfully kicks up me basically blowing that helicarrier out of the sky. Or my damn brother leaving me for dead.”

Jamie huffed. “You spell better than you think you do, sunshine.”

It was deflection, but he would let it go for now. “No, I  _ memorize  _ things better. I may be a barely literate high school dropout, but I can memorize just about anything. Which brings us right back to the amazing nature of the human mind. One of those fancy shrink people would tell us we need to process appropriately or what the fuck ever.”

Jamie sighed. “Anyone with security clearance high enough is also suspect and can’t be trusted.”

It was a really, really good point. Clint kissed the top of Jamie’s head. “We could keep doing this? Isn’t therapy mostly about talking through the shit that fucked you up?”

He was rewarded with a soft laugh. “Yeah. Basically.”

“Just checking. It’s been that way, well in my experience anyway. Then again, I’m not sure those S.H.I.E.L.D. bastards weren’t HYDRA and using the mandatory sessions to fuck me up further.”

Jamie turned, overbalancing them and leaving them both sprawled in the grass. “Enough trauma bullshit. You promised me a show of all those circus skills.”

Yeah, they’d pushed it enough for now. In the spirit of being a complete menace, Clint waggled his eyebrows. “You just want to know about my sword swallowing skills.”

Jamie’s laugh settled his anxiety. For now. It was enough. They were healing and no matter how slowly the healing happened, progressed was progress.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys appreciate each others outfits.   
> BBB Flash Prompt: Leather

Clint smirked. Really, who could blame him? Jamie looked amazing in leather. It hadn’t even taken too much convincing to get him to wear his new combat kit to their party. No, it wasn’t the usual party gear, but they were  _ superheroes  _ and pretty much everyone was all too happy to celebrate their win over Thanos. 

Jamie was watching him from under those criminally long eyelashes and he looked smug. Clint grinned, running a hand over the ‘new and improved’ Hawkeye kit Shuri had crafted for him. As much as he’d needed to step away from “Hawkeye” for a bit, he figured this party was the right time to step back up. Sooner or later they would be cleared and expected to be back out saving the world. He was determined to do that as Hawkeye. He’d been Hawkeye since childhood and no government suits were going to take that from him. 

“You look good enough to eat.”

Clint’s grin widened and damn if his heart didn’t feel like it expanded at the grumpily muttered words. Jamie was a world class smart ass under everything and he felt like a damn king each time that part of his guy shone through. “It’s the leather. Makes everyone look good.”

Jamie snickered. “It’s your ass that showcases the leather and you know it.”

“Come over here and tell me that,” he teased. 

One eyebrow shot up and Jamie shook his head. “I know all your tricks. We have thirty minutes to get to  _ our  _ party. Shuri would never let us live it down if we were late.”

Clint pouted, not because he was truly put out, but because he couldn’t  _ not _ tease Jamie. “Aww, ruiner of my fun, no.”

Jamie’s laugh made everything worth it. 


	27. With friends like these...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a party!  
> BBB Flash Prompt: Enemies to friends. 
> 
> I may have taken liberties with the intent of this prompt. But, I couldn't resist. 
> 
> I hope you are enjoying! I will try to update the last ten chapters in the next day or two.

T’Challa was almost smirking. Because he was a shit too most days. “Though, we started off badly -”

“You tried to kill James and insulted Clint,” Shuri interjected, her tone a not so gentle rebuke. 

Clint lifted his head from James’ shoulder, snickering. “It’s okay, all the best people try to kill one or both of us and fail.”

James wasn’t sure if he should stop his guy or encourage him. This was supposed to be a celebratory dinner, not a harass ‘your technically but only on paper’ younger brother dinner. Before he could decide, Clint’s grin made an appearance.

“I mean, the world’s  _ second  _ best marksman tried to kill me. I want a prize for that, by the way. A gift maybe? An award?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and reached over him to poke Clint in the ribs. “Let T’Challa talk, you menace.”

Clint opened his mouth - probably to remind everyone he knew he was a menace and proud of that fact - when Queen Ramonda just gave the lot of them her best  _ mom glare. _ They all shut up. She looked pleased by that.

“I was saying, we started off on the wrong foot, but both of you I call brother now.” T’Challa looked smug. “Which is why it is my joy to announce that not only have my brother's names been cleared, but that the Accords have been nullified. The Avengers will be re-forming  _ with  _ a UN Charter.”

—**—-

James wasn’t the artist Steve was, his serum hadn’t had all those fancier additions after all, but late that night, he tried his best. He had one last page to fill (for now) before leaving the notebook open on the counter where Clint would find it in the morning. Once he was done, he slid into bed and slipped off to sleep pretty much the moment Clint blanketed him.

—**—


	28. Happy tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint finds what the secret project Jamie has been working on is.  
> BBB flash prompt: photo prompt; Winter Soldier with knife in hand.

Clint positively lost it (in the best way) the next morning when he saw what Jamie had done. There was a bright purple notebook laid open. “Hawkeye’s Awards” it proclaimed. He laughed, even as silent tears ran down his face. Damn it, he really did have the best guy in the world.

There were little gold stars or those blue ribbons like you’d see at a fair on every page. ‘Surviving Iowa’ - a nod to his fucked up childhood - was across from ‘World’s Best Memory’ - he knew that was a reference to his ability to memorize all the things so he didn’t have to worry about spelling them. He flipped page after page, each one fucking rewarding him for surviving or overcoming fucked up shit no one person should have. 

He laughed long and hard at the purple badge proclaiming him ‘World's best recruitment officer’. There were photos of Nat, Wanda, Katie-Kate, and even Jamie surrounding the badge. He was almost shocked since he’d only spilled the beans about Katie-Kate two weeks ago. Only Nat and Jamie knew she existed. 

His laughter got caught in his throat. The next page was a drawing of Jamie in full Winter Soldier mode with a wicked knife in his fist. The page was otherwise blanketed in gold stars. Well, except the space that said, ‘All the gold stars for finding something to love in this fella.’

Clint looked up, finding Jamie leaning on the wall, arms cross over his chest and looking nervous. “All the things, Jamie, not just one little something. _All_ the things.”

“I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what I did to deserve you.”

Closing the notebook gently, because it was a precious fucking gift and he would treat it as such, Clint crossed the room. He oh so gently laid his hands on Jamie’s chest. “I could say the same, you know. Thank you. That had to take a lot of time.”

“Worth it,” Jamie replied softly, a small smile forming. “It's a reminder too. Now, let's go see what our baby sister summoned us for.”

\--**--


	29. Wakandan sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Wakanda sunrise for a while.  
> BBB flash prompt: daybreak

They rose earlier than usual for either of them. Last night had been one last pseudo-family dinner at the palace. James had wanted to see one more Wakandan sunrise because neither of them knew when they might have a chance to return. The idea of going back to NYC was equally thrilling and worrisome. But, James knew that Clint would be right there with him - probably handing him a notebook - if anything got to be too much.

Clint was slumped over him, coffee cup clutched in his hands as if the answer to life were held inside it. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” he murmured, pitching his tone so that Clint would have no trouble understanding him.

Those blue eyes lit with happiness watched him over the rim of the mug. “Yes, yes you are.”

Amused, he tried for an exasperated expression, but had a feeling he failed. “I meant the sunrise. Last Wakandan one we’ll see for a while.”

Adorably grumpy, Clint crinkled up his nose. “Aww, sunrise, no.”

“Next sunrise, we’ll be home with Lucky. I still say he’s going to hate me.”

“We should sleep through that one.” Clint kissed him in that sleepy way he had before ingesting a full pot of coffee. “Nah, he’ll love you. Promise.”

“And Kate?”

Clint kissed him again. “She will too.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“Rather hold you to me.”

As ever, James was all but a melted pile of goo at Clint’s adorableness. “We can do that too. Plenty of sunrises for us still to see.”

He knew from Clint’s grin that his fella was looking forward to all those sunrises as much as he was.


	30. Therapy ugh but also yay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James remembers more bad than good.  
> BBB flash bingo prompt: Siberia

_ Is it sad that I remember the cryotube and training the other Soldiers more than I do the fight Stevie and I had with Stark? It all happened in the same location. Why should I remember the worst parts? My shiny new therapist says that such things are usual and I shouldn’t be concerned overly with the reasons. My mind shows me what I need to work through, basically. She and I talked a lot today about Siberia and the atrocities that went on there. Most of it I was certainly not ready to discuss.  _

_ Honestly, there are days I want to punch her in the face just to shut up that always calm and patient tone. She doesn’t mean to sound condescending, I am aware of that. But, she damn well does. No one can use that fuckin’ tone of voice around me except for Clint.  _

_ Apparently, I have trust issues. Yes, I am rolling my eyes. Of course I have trust issues!  _

_ Speaking of, the Avengers are trying to re-form. Not sure how that is going to work since most of them can’t stand Stark. Clint loathes him for leaving him, Wanda, Scott, and Sam on The Raft. Oh and that tiny little thing where Stark can’t look at me without saying shit about “Manchurian Candidate” or “Murderbot”. Stark should not tempt fate so carelessly. Fearing me is just common sense. Underestimating Clint is downright lunacy. That isn’t even factoring in what abject stupidity it is to ignore the death glares from Natasha. _

_ Enough about that. I am supposed to be reviewing my day. I could fill ten notebooks with my feelings on Tony Stark, but then I’d have to burn them. Can’t leave that shit just lying around where the nosey fucker can find it.  _

_ So, back to my day.  _

_ It took all I had to stumble home and fall into bed. Clint will be home soon. Or soonish. He is training Kate today. I’m not sure the world is prepared for  _ _ two _ _ Hawkeyes, but I am damn sure going to enjoy every damn minute of it.  _

_ I took a nap and that helped ease the worst of the headache and nausea. Over a hundred years old all told and here I am fuckin’ napping, not sure if I enjoy being a fucking cliche but it is what it is.  _

_ Hopefully I’m a bit steadier by the time my fella gets home. I have plans for us to watch Bake Off and have pizza. We deserve it after all we’ve been through. I am just not going to tell him there will be vegetables on the pizza. His adorable squawking and “aww, vegetables, no” will be just the balm I need today.  _

\--**--


	31. Aww, heat, yes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint appreciates James. No not that way. Not sorry though.  
> BBB flash prompt: furnace

Of all the things Clint loved about his guy, it was sometimes the little things that tugged at his heart at the oddest moments. 

Sure, he adored how Jamie cuddled him whenever needed or always seemed to know when it was a No Good, Very Bad day. 

Or when he shot down anyone that dared say something remotely  _ not nice _ about him - whether it was in public or in the relative privacy of the new Avengers Mansion/HQ. 

The initial hoopla surrounding his ‘Amazing Defeat of Thanos’ had finally died down. Now, he was a performer at heart and some needy part of him had loved the attention, but it had become too much. Jamie had noticed and put a stop to it. 

Today though, today was the start of a damn Nor'easter in the middle of winter. So, today he was thankful that Jamie was built like a damn tank and gave off heat like the best, most cuddly furnace ever. They had ventured out only because Jamie had needed a few more small things for the case he was building for their notebooks. His guy had argued that they needed a special place. One that locked and kept them safe from prying eyes. 

They’d hoped to get out to the hardware store and back before it hit. But, like all things in their lives, it hadn’t been that simple. The other residents of the building had asked about picking up groceries for them. Both of them, being the utter saps they were, had agreed and added a stop on their trip. Jamie had taken a bit of convincing, but Clint had won in the end.

In his defense, they were a bit hardier than everyone else. But, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the cold at all. Okay, not as much as he would have even three years ago, but if it meant he got to cuddle Jamie even more than usual then Clint was not above dramatically overplaying it. 

He liked to see that secret smile from Jamie that no one else got to see when he was a ‘drama queen’. It soothed a deep hurt that he didn’t like thinking about or acknowledging. Jamie liked him - no Jamie fucking loved him - and would never walk away. 

No matter what. 


	32. Time slips by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James observes just how much time has passed.  
> BBB flash prompt: hair

It was strange. 

Kate was starting to get hints of silver in her hair. America and Shuri too. Even Morgan was looking older. Had so much time passed already? It seemed like yesterday that he and Clint, fresh new pardons and apologies in hand, had returned to Clint’s - their - apartment building in Brooklyn. Since the initial infighting and agree to disagree amongst the newly re-formed Avengers. 

Days flowed into weeks and weeks into months and months into years. It wasn’t like his appearance or Clint’s had changed. Maybe that was it. James tended to forget those sorts of things when the mirror still told him he looked the same as he did in 1943. 

They had watched the original tenants age, marry, have or adopt kids or pass on their apartments to that  _ one _ family member that never missed the building wide rooftop barbeques. What Clint had started by just being the amazing, caring, and all around wonderful human being that he was had morphed over time. 

He pulled his hair back in a quick braid, amused at just how good he was at it these days. Early on, it had been Clint fussing with it. James hadn't wanted to cut it off. He wasn’t that young and eager Sergeant Barnes, but he just kept letting it grow until he wasn’t recognizable as the Winter Soldier either. 

He hurried out, grabbing one of Clint’s Hawkeye hoodies on his way past and rushed down the stairs. They had some sort of Avengers Charity meeting thing - he hadn’t been paying much attention beyond the fact that they needed to show up for it - and it would take a good fifteen minutes to get Clint moving. 


	33. A New Cap...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for a new Captain America.  
> BBB flash prompt: silver

James stared at the costume - because that was what it damn well was - and sighed. Clint had already turned down the offer to become the new Captain America, so he knew it would be okay if he did as well. But. James sighed again, feeling the weight of Steve’s actions weight him down. 

The note that had been left for them had been simple and yet so damn complicated. 

_ Everyone, _

_ I am so sorry to surprise you all with this. It seemed the best way though. I am tired. Of everything. For too many years I have been more Captain America than Steve Rogers and it has finally become too much. I hope everyone can forgive me for leaving in the night. Any one of the current Avengers are more than capable to take over the Captain America persona, but I do hope Bucky and Clint are considered first and foremost.  _

_ Steve _

Of course, there had been a note for James as well. That had been more of Steve being Steve. James didn’t hate Steve. He was utterly unable to hate his best friend. He did wish that Steve had handled this differently though. It wasn’t as if his “Steve is doing something stupid” radar hadn’t gone off the night Steve had left. He’d been there to see his best friend off. When Steve hadn’t returned, only James and Clint hadn’t been surprised. 

He laid a hand on the silver portion of the shield and looked up, only Clint’s expression neutral of all the Avengers around the table at HQ. Damn it. There really was only one choice here. 

“I’ll do it, but I’m still shooting people. Firm on that.”

Clint laughed until he cried. James was only mildly concerned about what his fella was planning. At least it would be amusing - no matter what it was. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On good days like today, scars are a distant memory.  
> BBB flash prompt: Scars 
> 
> Last one for today. I hope you are enjoying!

Clint always had enjoyed surprising him. Or trying to. His fella - well husband now - usually spilled the surprise without meaning to. For a man who absolutely hated spoilers, it was just one more habit for the ‘adorable Clint habits’ file in James’ head. Okay, he had a notebook too. Because that was one habit neither of them had ever broken no matter how many years had passed since their time in Wakanda. 

The mental scars of their early lives - and wasn’t it a kick in the ass to think of it that way - would never go away fully. But, today wasn’t for the bad, it was for the good. So, he looked up from the gorgeous photo album Shuri had given them and smiled widely. She was all grown up; Queen of Wakanda and had been for almost thirty years now. It was enough to make him feel even older than he was on the inside. 

A quick glance at his new husband brought new insight into this pseudo-kidnapping ending in a marriage in Las Vegas plot. As much as they both loved what would be an endless life with one another, the losses stacked up the more years that passed. Very few, and that number seemed to shrink far too quickly, knew of the truths of their soulbond and Clint being enhanced. Both had felt that the information in the wrong hands would have catastrophic consequences. While Clint was apt to be kidnapped, James was still universally feared enough that all attempts stopped a good twenty years ago. Why those same morons still thought kidnapping Clint was acceptable was a question for the ages.

They’d not been wrong, but Clint was ever helpful and always taught idiot kidnappers why handing him right back was their best option. They had gone public with James giving him an emergency blood transfusion and the speculation about the Ageless Hawkeye died back down. 

Clint swore he didn’t ‘allow’ himself to be kidnapped, but it was always said with that mischievous grin that told James the truth. It wasn’t just that Clint enjoyed menacing idiot kidnappers, he also enjoyed rescuing himself and then waiting for James’ inevitable arrival and scorched earth policy for anyone that dared touch Clint. “I got bored,” was Clint’s usual greeting when such events happened. Or, “You took longer this time, Jamie. Did you bring me coffee?”

James knew for a fact that Clint had a notebook dedicated to ranking his kidnappings. At least life was never boring. With that in mind, he signed: I love you. 

Clint grinned that sunshine grin that never left his eyes these days and signed back: I love you more.

Lest they get in a game of one-upmanship, James turned back to the amused redhead that had swapped spots with Shuri and was watching him in that unnerving way she’d had even as a child. “You make him happy. Keep doing that.”

“Plan on it.”

He didn’t know what Natasha was planning and valued his skin too much to press her on it. She looked tired. More so than even Steve had before he’d done his runner. If that was her plan, he was glad that she’d waited for this, for their wedding to happen, before leaving. She leant in and kissed his cheek, her voice pitched to not carry past the two of them. “I now know that I can trust you with him.”

James sat back, smiling slightly. Only Natasha Romanov would take nearly sixty years to come to that conclusion. He wasn’t going to allow worries to color the day, but he tucked away his thoughts for later. Right now, he was more concerned with stealing his husband for a dance. Days like this were balm on all of their scars and he would always do his best to keep his adorable blond smiling and happy. 


	35. Aww, new coffee pot, no!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri's grandson tries to convince Clint to upgrade his coffee pot.  
> BBB flash prompt: Rusted

James looked up from the StarkPad that had arrived earlier by courier and grinned. His husband was facing off with Shuri’s oldest grandson - T’Challa - who was as stubborn as his grandma and great uncle. But, he knew that Clint would win this particular battle. Figuring out how to journal on the newest version of the StarkPad that Morgan’s daughter had created could wait a bit. It never got old watching Clint in action.

“But, Uncle Clint, this new coffee pot does everything for you! I can program exactly how much grounds per pot if you want me to.” T’Challa paused, his tone taking on a cajoling edge. “You know, so you don’t have to.”

Clint’s scowl was half legitimate and half ‘fucking with T’Challa’. “I may  _ be  _ an old man, but my memory is that of a twenty five year old. So … better than yours, pal.”

T’Challa looked as if he was struggling to not roll his eyes. James felt for him, he really did. But., then again … everyone should know better by now. One of the few perks of being as old and well-respected as they were was the freedom to fuck with anyone they damn well pleased. Which, being the shits that they were, could even be the head of the newest iteration of the WSC or the President of the United States. Okay, the first had been Clint and the second himself. But, that particular president had been a blowhard, narcissistic fuckwit that should never have sat in the Oval in the first place. It had been his patriotic duty to fuck with that moron.

He tuned back in when Clint squawked and then pouted. “My coffee pot works just fine! Just because it’s old doesn’t mean it needs to be replaced.” He scowled at James, - probably because his fella knew he was struggling not to laugh his ass off. “You haven’t tried to replace Jamie’s pancake pan!”

James couldn’t let that one pass. So, he snorted. “My pancake pan, as you call it, is a _cast iron skillet._ I take proper care with it so it won’t ever become a rusted mess like your coffee pot, sunshine.”

T’Challa winced, slowly backing towards the door. 

James struggled not to laugh as Clint did his drama queen thing, complete with flailing arms, groans, and whining. 

“Don’t diss my coffee pot, you heathen! When that newfangled machine fucks up  _ your _ morning coffee, don’t come crying to me!”

The door clicked closed and James held up a hand. They waited until the security screen showed T’Challa all but running out on the roof to his quinjet to laugh until they both cried. It truly amused them to fuck with everyone, even their chosen family. 

He hoped that never changed. 


	36. 125th VE Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets talked into being Master of Ceremonies for the 125th Anniversary of VE Day.   
> BBB flash prompt: Photo prompt; Bucky in WW2 uniform

He couldn’t believe that Clint had talked him into this shit. Okay, that was a dirty, rotten lie. He’d never been able to say no to his husband. Not even back when they’d been idiots in Wakanda. Fucks sake. His hair was longer these days, but otherwise the uniform was perfect. Not that anyone was going to call him out on it. He was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, last living Howling Commando, Captain America, and now Master of Ceremonies for the 125th Anniversary of VE Day. If his hat wasn’t sat property or his hair too long or even a ribbon just out of alignment, well not one person left alive was going to mention it. No one fucking dared. 

He hadn’t been certain when they had been approached about all of this fanfare. He truly was the only one left, after Steve fucked off into some mad time machine thing that had been the brainchild of Banner, Stark, and one of the Fantastic 4. James had been there to see him off, only because that instinct he’d always had when his best friend was about to do something stupid had been screaming at him. James and Clint were the only ones that had been surprised when Steve didn’t return.

Clint had refused to take on the mantle of Captain America, despite being the best at wielding the shield. So, he’d taken it. Reluctantly. But, he’d fucking done it. Partially for Steve and partially for what the uniform and shield stood for. 

Symbols meant something. Clint had helped him remember that. So, he’d do this today just like he’d taken the Captain America symbol and done his best by it. 

Natasha had disappeared not long after Steve had. Clint had been nigh on inconsolable. That was until a notebook had arrived by express courier. He - to this day - didn’t know exactly what Natasha had written, only that Clint had slid the notebook away with the ones they had written and let a peace settle over him. Some had been shared, though James didn’t think too hard on things. His PTSD had lessened over the years, but it was still there in the back of his mind. Just waiting to be triggered. 

“You know, for a really old guy, you’re still fucking amazingly biteable.”

James pulled his attention away from the mirror and to his guy. Clint Barton still looked as ageless as he had after their sojourn into the black sand in Wakanda. Dressed today as Hawkeye - at the request of the President of the United States no less - and looking just as fucking biteable as ever. “Same to you, sunshine.”

“Best choice I ever made. The whole kidnapping you to Vegas and marrying you thing, I mean.”

James laughed, leaning in for a kiss. Clint bent down, still smirking. “Can’t kidnap the willing, husband of mine.”

Clint kissed him thoroughly, before pulling back to pout. “Nope! I object. I have the trophy proclaiming my success at kidnapping you. Nat was never wrong.”

Laughing, they made their way up to where the jet was waiting for them, hand in hand. 


	37. Fur babies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slow passage of time. Clint brings home a new Alpine.  
> BBB flash prompt: Alpine.

Clint hadn’t been able to resist the cute little bundle of fur anymore than he had the original Lucky back in the day. So, he cuddled the kitten that he knew Jamie was going to adore. Lucky the 10th was trying so hard to be a good boy and not jump up so he could nose at his new sister again. Alpine had taken Lucky’s nosiness with the air of a Queen. It was the same attitude she’d had when he had found her all gross and hungry behind the archery range. He knew she’d be the next Alpine the moment she and Lucky had bonded. They always came in pairs, at least for the last seventy years or so. Before that, the Lucky and Alpine Show hadn’t been so well-rehearsed. Clint said Bastet had a hand in it and Jamie didn’t have opinions one way or the other. 

“Jamie is going to love you, little one.”

Bright blue eyes peeked up over his jacket sleeve and Clint melted just a little bit. He’d not been a cat guy all those years ago when Jamie had brought home Alpine the First. Of course, she’d just been Alpine then. Jamie had brought home this bedraggled and starving kitten and they had nursed her back to health. Alpine the First had wormed her way into Clint’s heart, just as every subsequent Alpine had within an hour of being brought home. 

It hurt, in a way, to see beloved pet after pet pass on. But, it also made him feel good about rescuing - and their pets were always rescued - animals and giving them their best, most spoiled life ever. No matter how many years passed, there was always a need for re-homing abused animals. Over the years, they’d even fostered some as well as having their Alpines and Luckys. 

So yeah, he was going to enjoy this newest baby and even more so the look on Jamie’s face as his guy - once again - fell completely for their newest cute four legged baby. Letting go was always harder these days than the letting in part. But, he was Clint Fucking Barton and he’d manage it. Just like he always did.

  
  



	38. Finally going home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Clint decide that it is time to go.  
> BBB flash prompt: homecoming
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read along, I appreciate each and every one of you. I hope you enjoyed this wild ride.

James knew, intellectually, how many centuries had passed. Long ago, technology had moved past notebooks and actual paper, but their habit of writing things down daily had never changed. So, yeah, not difficult. 

Nor was it difficult to watch everyone and everything around them age. Saying goodbye had never become  _ easier _ no matter how many times they had stood by a death bed or at a funeral. They’d watched the children and grandchildren and even now great-grand children arrive and depart the world. God honestly it was multiple greats in some cases. 

“What ya thinking?”

James leaned in, taking comfort from his husband. “I’m tired.”

“Of?” Clint asked, though his tone said that he already knew. 

“Everything.”

“Me too. Should we go home?”

James knew he meant Wakanda and that secret cave they hadn’t ever returned to even after all this time. Way back in the day, back when this all was new and shiny, Clint had asked the original Elder exactly how long their ‘long lives’ would be. The Elder’s answer had irritated Clint.  _ You will know when it’s time to return home. It is not something I can tell you.  _ At first, they had both been a bit confused. Of course, Brooklyn and Wakanda were both home by then. But, after about a century James finally got it. The look of understanding on Clint’s face when he’d explained had been sobering. 

So they’d taken the knowledge and done the best they could to help make the Earth a better place. At first, it was like Natasha had said all those years ago - both of them had red in their ledgers and needed to clear it off. But, that road once you started down it was so very difficult to get back off.

They’d visited Carol and Thor and the Guardians too, but only when Earth’s safety was at risk. Early on it had become clear that Avengers did  _ not _ get vacations. Sure, they’d trained up generations of Avengers too. But, no matter how many times they’d tried out retirement, something always brought them back. It was never quite the right time to totally hand over the reins. 

Now though, they were greeted as old friends, the current Elder only studying them for a moment before motioning for them to follow. Not a word was said, even once they reached the black sand in the hidden garden. The drinks both of them were handed were just as vibrant purple as the one Clint drank mere hours before defeating Thanos. Hand in hand, they didn’t hesitate.

All went hazy, and then cleared again. They were in that place, the one with the tree and all of the black panthers prowling around. But this time Natasha was waiting for them, T’Challa and Shuri just off to her right. Kate was there too, America (as always) by her side. 

“Welcome home, we’ve missed you.”

He blinked back tears, throat closing up as he truly took in the sheer number of people watching and waiting for them to step closer. 

“We’ve missed you too,” Clint murmured, reaching out to hug Natasha, but not letting him go either. 

“It’s good to be home,” he finally managed to murmur. 

And it was. 


End file.
